


Too Sweet To Be Salty About It

by trxtr



Series: 12 DAYS OF TARLOS [1]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Carlos is a rat, Coffee, Established Carlos Reyes/TK Strand, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, TK is so frustrated, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, gay coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28075701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxtr/pseuds/trxtr
Summary: “Who is Mac?”“You are.”“What?”“I don't know your name, so I gave you one. Macchiato; Mac."or:5 times Tk tried to get Carlos's name + 1 time he actually did. (coffee Shop AU)
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: 12 DAYS OF TARLOS [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2056740
Comments: 6
Kudos: 115





	Too Sweet To Be Salty About It

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by google docs :)
> 
> 12 days of Tarlos day one: Coffee Shop AU
> 
> Title from Thanks, I Hate It by Simple Creatures

1.

It started with a grande caramel macchiato and a criminal justice major.

Tk had managed to get stuck with a job as a barista at a local starbucks somewhere on the outskirts of the UT campus. It wasn’t a dream job, but while he studied and trained for the academy, he was dead set on making at least a little money for his dad. 

It wasn't exactly a quaint family owned coffee shop that he would read about in novels as a high schooler, but the ambiance was just as gentle, and the typical customer was a less-than-loud college student coming in on their 7AM jog to class. Tk was used to it. He loved opening; he loved seeing new faces, especially at the beginning of the semester. It was a breath of fresh air for him, really. 

Tk was opening shop at 5AM (much earlier than he would have liked). He was the first person in. His manager did not usually come in until hoards of students started flooding in for study and an overpriced snack, so Tk was completely alone when the first person walked in.

And, well, he was never one to forget a pretty face.

The stranger was one he had never seen before; one for whom he didn't have the order memorized. He had rode his bike in the dark, on the streets at five in the morning, just to slip in as soon as Tk flipped on the switch for the open sign. 

“May I help you?”

“Uh, yeah, hi—”

_Holy shit._

Just by looking at him, Tk could deduce that he liked a smoother coffee; possibly sweeter. His skin was smooth and sun kissed, and Tk couldn't help but notice the richness to his voice. His muscles peaked out of his shirt almost effortlessly, clinging to the fabric in a way that Tk could almost see straight through.

_Holy shit, he’s pretty._

Tk tried to look up from the counter, but every time he did his eyes would get stuck halfway, afraid to make eye contact because if he did he would most likely fall in love right then and there. He tried to bring his gaze to the register, hoping it wouldn't seem too disrespectful that he wasn't looking.

“Can I get a grande caramel macchiato?”

“Is that it?” Tk looked up, quizzingly, his eyes finally meeting the mocha gaze of the other. He swallowed hard, his hand shaking on the buttons behind the register, but he smiled, nonetheless.

“Yeah, that's all.”

Tk poked some numbers in on reflex, laughing to himself about how _fucking stupid_ he was, just standing here, listening to a pretty boy speak in nervous, broken sentences. “Can I have a name for that.”

“Uh, I— um…”

“What's the matter?” Tk quizzed, quirking his eyebrow up. He smiled slightly as the other fumbled over his words, listening carefully for any hint at a name. When he got none, he sighed. “I can just put the drink in, since you're the only one here.”

“Please?” The other answered.

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m sorry, it's really early and I just switched dorms so it was really hard to find a shop open this early but if I don’t have my coffee before six it doesnt really do its job—”

“No, I totally get it,” Tk chuckled as he reached into the fridge for some cold brew. “When I first started working here I would always shove a few bucks in the register and down half a pot, black.” He thought for a moment, before shaking his head. “Don’t tell my manager I said that. I want her to like me.”

There was a low chuckle from behind him.

“Yeah, no, I used to not be a morning person, at all, but I joined the fire academy and I realized that I have to be an every-time-of-night-or-day person to have a chance in that field, so I guess I just kind of evolved.”

“You joined the academy?”

“Yeah. Training is rough, but some days I get to come here and see everyone and actually take a break _and_ make money while doing it? I lucked out doing this part time.” Tk placed the mixture of ingredients in front of him into the blender, turning it on high for a few seconds before asking, “What about you, Macchiato? What has you up so early?”

“I have a class at eight.”

“What class?”

“Law enforcement and American Policing.”

“Oh, so you wanna be a cop?”

“I’m just thinking about it.” The other leaned against the counter. “But if I do, I want to make sure I know what I’m doing; that I have the background knowledge to know what I’m getting into.”

Tk laughed while he poured the drink into the cup. He did the typical swirl of whipped cream and drizzle of caramel on top. “Sounds like a solid plan.” Tk turned around, and slid the cup across the counter to him. 

The other smiled.

“Hope you have a good cop class, Macchiato,” Tk teased.

2.

Macchiato comes at the same time the next day.

5:02AM, Tk was letting the second song on his open playlist fade out when he heard the squeak of the door again. He turned around to see the boy from the day before— The soon-to-be cop, his mind supplied.

“Good morning.”

_God, Tk could listen to his voice forever._

“Good morning. How was class yesterday?”

Tk heard the other groan, and he chuckled a little. It was a sound he was all too familiar with after a day of boring, mundane note-taking classes. That was why he joined the academy, initially, instead of continuing classes full time. He needed _something_ to do. 

“That bad, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure half the room was snoring by the end of the lecture.” Macchiato joked, shuffling on his feet.

Tk sighed and looked up at the other. “You want the same thing as yesterday, or you wanna try something new?”

“No,” he blinked. “No, I’ll take the grande caramel macchiato again, thank you.”

Tk smiled. “Coming right up.”

3.

It was the third day in a row that Macchiato walked in right at opening, and this time Tk had his drink waiting for him on the counter.

“What’s this?” He asked when Tk came out from the back, lugging a couple bottles of cold brew under his arms. He dropped them on the counter, smiling. “I figured you didn't wanna wait here and talk to me while I’m preoccupied making your drink, so I made it for you.”

“How did you know I would be here?”

“I didn't,” Tk shrugged. “I just figured, hey, if you're here then that's great. If you're not, the drink’s pretty good. I might as well drink it, myself.”

Macchiato examined the cup, his mocha eyes narrowing in confusion as they read over the messy, all caps handwriting reading: _MAC_. 

“Who is Mac?”

“You are.” Tk deadpanned, crouching down to place some of the cold brew in the fridge under the counter.

“What?”

“I don't know your name, so I gave you one. Macchiato; Mac. I’m sorry if it bothers you–”

“It doesn't.” The other threw his hands forward in a defensive manner. “It doesn’t, I swear. I am just wondering why you chose Mac.”

“I don't think grande or caramel would have had as nice of a ring to it.”

“Caramel would have been close.”

Tk’s face flushed. “Is that the only hint I’m getting?”

“I don’t even know _your_ name,” Macchiato retorted.

Tk took a moment to run through inventory of the fridge before popping his head up and sticking his hand out. “I’m Tk,” he smiled. “What’s your name?”

The taller looked at him for a moment and tilted his head. He looked over at the drink, then back to Tk. With a mischievous grin, he stuck out his hand. “Hi, Tk. I’m Mac.”

Tk groaned.

4.

The next day, Tk was sitting on the counter next to the drink, swinging his feet when Mac came in. He had a matching drink in his hands, and he was sipping it through a straw. 

“Morning, Mac.”

“Morning, Tk.”

Tk couldn't hide the grin when he spoke. He thought he had grown accustomed to Mac’s caramel rich voice, but it still managed to catch him off guard every time he spoke. 

“So,” Tk started, holding out the drink for the other. “Do I get another hint at your name?”

Mac chuckled, making goosebumps rise on Tk’s arms, but he didn't let it show. Not really. Instead he scrunched his face in defense. “What?”

“You’ll figure it out, eventually,” Mac teased.

“I don’t like this game,” Tk pouted. He kicked his feet up and twisted himself back over the counter so he could stand and look at him. “I’m gonna feel bad calling you Mac all the time when I know that’s not your name.”

“Then you better try harder.”

Tk sighed and punched some numbers into the cash register. “Your drink’s on me, by the way,” Tk said. “I had some extra cash; figured I’d treat the both of us.”

“You’re serious?”

Tk shrugged, eyes meeting his. “Yeah; It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yeah, but, you know five bucks goes a long way for a broke college student.”

“Now you can have one more caramel macchiato,” Tk smiled, dropping a five from his pocket into the register.

“Thank you, Tk.”

“Any time, Mac.” 

Tk thought he saw the other sigh, but before he could ask anything, the man was pulling a straw from the dispenser, and placing it in between his teeth. “Ill see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

5.

It becomes a dance for Mac and Tk, to meet up with each other in the early morning and pester each other about classes and training. Tk had paid for his drink upwards of five times, now, and in a futile attempt to make it up to him, Mac started dropping hints about what his name was. The boy had given him a variety of vague hints; snippets into his mind everywhere from Los Angeles to Big Time Rush, but Tk was still getting nowhere.

So, when Mac walked in and saw the same three letters sprawled on the cup, he gave Tk a mischievous grin. “Still haven't figured it out?”

“I’m not one for trivial matters when I’ve gotta keep the combustion temperature of hydrogen in my head,” Tk scoffed, taking a sip from a warmer coffee in his hands, this time.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Five hundred degrees, celsius; nine hundred thirty-two degrees fahrenheit. Not like you care.” He snapped.

“Hey—”

“No, its fine, Mac, its cool, I just… have a lot on my plate right now and this whole name thing is kinda bothering me right now, and I don't know why because it _literally_ shouldnt bother me when I have to run the CPAT in two days—”

“The academy kicking your ass?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

Mac looked him up and down. Tk pretended not to notice. 

“I”m sorry, Tk.” Hre sighed, leaning over the counter to get a little closer to him. “If I could help you, I would.” His voice was sincere; gentle. He meant it, and Tk knew it.

“I know you would,” Tk replied. He took a moment to rinse out the blender behind the counter, hands shaking in exhaustion. “Look, Mac, my last shift is tomorrow. I figured you should know.”

“You're graduating from the academy?” Mac blinked. 

“If I can pass the CPAT, yeah. If not, I really need to focus on classes.”

“Oh.” He looked up. “Well, don't worry. I’ll be here tomorrow. Ill give you a proper goodbye.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make it seem like I’m leaving forever. Sound so upset… I don’t know.” Tk lamented. He turned to mac with sad eyes. “I really like working here. I really like seeing you and everyone else. Knowing that people will miss me just makes it harder.”

Mac opened his mouth, but waited to say anything. When he did, he gently squeezed Tk’s shoulder, and sighed. “I’ll See you tomorrow, Tk.”

“See you tomorrow, Mac.”

+1

Tk felt a pit in his stomach when he saw Mac waiting by the door at 4:45. He knew that the other knew that the store opened at five, and he would have to wait a little for his drink instead of it being ready by the time he entered the store. That didn't stop him from letting the other in, fifteen minutes early.

“Hey, Mac.”

“Hey, Tk.”

Mac offered a tiny smile as Tk flipped the lights on. His eyes shone a little brighter, his grin a little tighter, and Tk couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that beautiful brain of his.

“You want your usual?”

“Yes, please,” Mac answered, watching Tk step behind the register. 

The boy punched in a couple numbers after he unlocked it, as he did every morning, before looking up at Mac. “It's four eighty-one.”

Mac smiled gently, yanking a five and a little white sheet of paper from his wallet and sliding it over to Tk. “Keep the change.”

“What’s this?” He looked up at Mac.

“It’s not goodbye,” The other replied, pursing his lips.

Tk unfolded the paper, eyes scanning it with caution.

_I want to see you again. Text me._

_(512)-555-6789_

_Carlos Reyes (Mac)_

“Carlos.”

“I knew you’d get it,” he grinned, standing back on his heels.

“You gave it to me.”

“And now you got it.”

Tk laughed to himself, turning on his heel to grab a grande cup. He pulled a purple sharpie from under the counter and wrote his own set of digits on it, a huff of laughter escaping when he set it down to begin working.

He prepared the drink in record speed, reflexively at this point, before turning around and pushing it towards him, the side of the drink reading:

_Call me, Carlos: (917)-555-2121_

Tk caught the ghost of a smile on his face, and right before the other was about to turn around, he spoke up. “For the record, I like Carlos a lot more than I like Mac.”

Carlos smiled. “Me too, Tk. Me too.”

  
  



End file.
